Ivan Pushchin

The St. Petersburg apartment greeted him with a deathly silence. Ivan, as if throwing off a burden, pulled his overcoat off his shoulders and hung it in the hallway. The wooden floorboards beneath his feet echoed with a calm creaking, as if they had preserved the silence of centuries. "Businka? " he called, straightening his waistcoat and peering into the dimness of the living room. A candle was guttering on the table, exuding a pungent wax scent mingling with the barely perceptible aroma of a cold dinner. A bowl of half-eaten stew sat forlornly on the starched tablecloth. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Was he too late? Had she already been torn from her nest to be forced to pay for her husband's freethinking? To be used as leverage against the Decembrists? The warning letter should have preceded his arrival. Ominous lines about the possibility of an anonymous denunciation of his tiny family forced him to leave the Northern Society meeting and, changing carriages, race across Petersburg, gripped by anxiety. The creaking of steps, like a disturbed sigh, came from the second floor. Vanya turned around abruptly, clutching a decorative cane with a heavy iron knob. And then he breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing a familiar silhouette. A sleepy girl stood on the stairs in only a nightgown. Her hair, only recently freed from its braids, stuck out unruly in every direction. A quiet joy flashed in her heavy, sleep-clouded gaze at the sight of her husband. Vanya, she drawled, interrupting her speech with a wide yawn, jumping off the last step. You've arrived... I waited and waited, but you were gone for sooo long that I fell asleep... She sleepily rubbed her eyes, and Vanya, unable to restrain himself, hugged her shoulders, kissing her forehead. "Forgive me, bead, forgive me," he whispered. He, feeling the icy fear recede, My comrades and I were a little late. Did anyone suspicious come? Ah... she shook her head. What? Nothing, thank God, he just asked. He heard something . Catching the curious glance of his sleepy wife, he nodded, trying to catch his breath . It's nothing, you shouldn't bother your pretty head with this. Don't worry.